Passwords
by HeyBulldogProductions
Summary: When he continuously gets headaches that knock the wind out of him, Freddie's concerned that it may be something more. He's more passionate to his wife, his kids and is writing down all of his passwords...just incase.


**Passwords**

Clearly, Freddie had a headache.

Whenever he'd rub his temples repeatedly with his thumb and ring finger, it was a sign that his head was throbbing. Though he never complained about it much, these headaches nearly knocked Freddie out. He'd been having them on and off ever since he toured the country after inventing a camera lens that added some special effect during filming rather than editing. Freddie gained quite a fortune from his invention, but he requested to receive income as if he was a regularly working man.

Freddie, his wife and their five kids moved into a house on the corner. Each of the kids had their own room and their own agendas. No two kids were the same. It was chaos in the Benson household. But Freddie and Sam wouldn't have it any other way.

But when his headaches came, Freddie minded a little bit. He could cure the first handful of headaches with a good night's sleep with a cold icepack on his head. After those few, nothing made the headaches go away. He tried hiding it from their kids, but nothing got past Sam. She kept a careful eye on him as he tucked their youngest daughter into her bed.

"Daddy? Where is my prince?"

"Your prince?" he asked. "He'll come. And he'll be in shining armor on top of a white horse. You'll just have to wait for him." Freddie stood up and kissed his daughter's forehead as he turned the light in her room off. Sam stood outside of their daughter's room and waited until he closed her door to talk.

"How's your head tonight?"

"It's…fine. Better than last night." Freddie rubbed his temples again.

"Icepack?"

"Please."

Freddie couldn't sleep that night. He sat in bed and listened to Sam's rhythmic snoring. Normally, the snoring with stir up the beast inside of his head. That's what he referred to the headaches as. It also helped explain his pain better to the younger kids. He'd say that there was an angry beast inside of his head. And he'd say that sometimes it'd get really, really angry and that he couldn't even talk. The older kids knew better. They knew Freddie's frequent headaches were simply killer headaches, but the little kids literally thought a beast was inside of Freddie's head. He and Sam thought it was cute that they thought that.

But Sam's snoring tonight was a relief, in a way. He was still sleeping next to his wife. Both of their hearts were still beating. Their kids were all healthy and happy. They had enough money to last them and their children a lifetime. Besides the headaches, Freddie's life was absolutely perfect.

Enjoying Sam's snoring worried Freddie a bit. His mother told him had told him something right before she died. When she was on her deathbed, she told Freddie that ever since she knew she was going to die soon, everything that had once annoyed her she now enjoyed. She didn't explain why. Freddie was smart enough and old enough to figure the answer out for himself. The reason his mother wasn't annoyed by things she used to be was because she was on her deathbed. She wouldn't have the time to be annoyed by them any longer.

Her time was limited, and he knew his was too.

Careful not to wake Sam up, Freddie kicked himself free of the covers and walked into a room connected to theirs. It was Freddie's office. One side contained a whole wall of books. The other side had drawers that held almost every piece of new technological equipment known to man. Freddie marched to his desk and pulled out a yellow legal pad he kept in one of the drawers. It only had eight sheets left.

Freddie filled them all, front and back.

With what? Passwords, location information for all of the important paperwork, including his will, and he had written each of the kids and Sam a half-page letter.

This took about two hours total to do. Freddie glanced at his watch and saw that it was only four o'clock. He decided to wait two hours before waking Sam up and break the news to her. He knew nothing yet, but in his heart Freddie knew that he didn't have much time left. His family had quite a history of brain-related illnesses. Mainly cancer. Freddie really didn't look into it until now.

He watched one of his favorite films on his laptop in his office and then went back into his and Sam's bedroom at six o'clock on the dot. He lowered himself onto the bed and wrapped his arms around Sam. He kissed the back of her head and held her close to him. They were spooning.

"Mmmm…" she made a soft moaning noise and fluttered her eyes open.

"Morning," he whispered into her ear as he kissed it.

"Freddie, it's Saturday."

"I know."

"Why are you up so early?"

"Because I read this article on ways to cure a headache and found out that making love to my wife is one way to help."

Sam scoffed. "Yeah, right."

"I'm serious," he laughed. "Sex releases endorphins and dopamine which stimulate the-"

"If it'll get you to stop talking, then I will." Sam rolled over so that she and Freddie were now face-to-face. "The kids don't usually get up for another three hours."

"Three hours? I could definitely work with that."

"Freddie, you animal," she teased, pushed his chest and kissed him. It was hard to kiss with the big smile on her face, but they managed.

They managed to couple four times before they heard the first sign of other life in the house.

"Not that I'm complaining," Sam began to say as she put her clothes for the gym on, "but we haven't gone four times since…well, I don't think we've ever made it that many times."

"Past me had goals," Freddie joked.

"Ha ha. You're too funny, Mr. Benson."

"If I'm such a joke then why did you marry me, Mrs. Benson?"

They kissed as Freddie finished putting his jeans on.

"After you come home from the gym I have a doctor's appointment."

"Is everything alright?"

"Just a routine check-up is all."

"Well, one thing's for sure: your engine is in tip-top condition."

Freddie couldn't help but laugh at his wife's crude humor. On his way out he gave her a kiss. But once he got into the hall he made a mad dash for his office. He stripped the yellow legal pad of all the paper he wrote on yesterday and stuffed the papers into his pants pockets.

He went to his doctor's appointment as soon as Sam got home. He was prepared for the worst. And it was a damn good thing he was. The visit lasted a lot longer than Freddie had expected, but he only heard a few words. Brain cancer. Two months to live. Untreatable.

He wanted to cry, but the tears just wouldn't come out. He wanted to do a million things in that moment when he pulled into the driveway of his house. He wanted to drive back to the doctor's office and strangle the doctor that gave him the news. He wanted to run off to the airport and tour the world before his time was up. He wanted to drive his car off a bridge and save himself two months of suffering. In the end, Freddie made the best choice. He went inside and spent time with his family.

He knew he couldn't keep the news from Sam for long. He had to tell her that night. After their amazing morning, Sam had hinted at an encore later that night. Freddie, of course, agreed to it, but he knew he had to tell her first. Their evening might be ruined because of it, but it'd give his mind some peace for the first time since the headaches first started.

"Sam?" he called from their bed.

"Yes?"

"Could we talk for a little bit?" He took the slips of yellow paper from his pockets and played with them in his hands.

"Sure?" Her voice completely changed. She came out of the bathroom with a worried expression painted on her face. "Is something wrong?"

Freddie didn't know how to start this conversation. It was never one he saw coming. Then, one of the yellow papers fell onto his lap. He stared at it for a moment. His gaze eventually went to Sam. He sighed and picked up all of the papers.

"Each of the half-sheets are letters. Each of the kids has one and so do you. The two big ones have every password, every bit of information for all of our personal papers and locations for it all."

"Freddie, you're scaring me. You always remember your passwords. Why are you writing them down?"

"That appointment I had earlier. They took a look inside of my head and found a tumor. That's why I've been having these headaches. I have about two months left. And the doctor said I have even less time than that before my memory starts to go."

Sam started to cry, which broke Freddie's heart. He hugged his wife all night long. Neither of them slept. They told their kids the next morning. Even more tears were shared.

He told them not to open their letters until he was gone. Less than a week after he said that Freddie did just that. He died on a Saturday morning in his bed. Exactly two months after the morning he and Sam had coupled four times and he went to the doctor's office. Exactly two months after his life was anything but normal.

Sam had him cremated and had his ashes scattered on the fire escape where they first kissed. She also scattered some around Ridgeway, Bushwall Plaza and even some by the mental hospital where she had been many years before when she couldn't fathom the idea of being in love with him. Now that he was gone, Sam couldn't fathom _not_ being in love with him.

When she got home that night all of the kids with the exception of her oldest daughter were asleep. They talked a little bit before they both got too tired to carry on the conversation. As Sam headed to her bed she saw the yellow note lying on his side of the bed. She bit her lip before she sat on her side of the bed. Her fingers hovered over the piece of paper.

Finally, she opened it.

_Dear Lover,_

_ I'm writing this before I know anything. Whether I'm sick or not, nothing I say here will change. Sam, I will always love you. The years we were apart after Carly moved to Italy made me feel empty. When we found each other and never looked back, I could've cried with happiness. _

_ There's a chance, a very big one, that you and I won't grow old together. We won't see our kids graduate college or get married or have kids of their own. You will, but not me. Sam, I hope that you'll die an old lady, warm and sound asleep in your bed. Because that's what you deserve. A good, quality life. With or without me, I know you can do it. But I'll always be there. Like the wind, you won't see me, but you'll always feel me._

_ If I turn out to be sick, I'll keep reminding myself of the only good thing to come from it: death is a part of life. At least the headaches will stop._

_ Your best friend, soul mate, lover, enemy and partner in crime, _

_ Freddie_

_PS: I hate you._

"Well," she said aloud as she looked up at the sky. "At least your headaches are gone."


End file.
